


Sick Jokes

by rhythmicroman



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Angst, Assisted Suicide, Crying, Disbelief Papyrus, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insanity, Laughter, Mental Breakdown, Mental Disintegration, Mental Instability, Murder, Murder-Suicide, Papyrus-centric, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Sad Ending, Suicide, breaking cinnamon rolls a story at a time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7767511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhythmicroman/pseuds/rhythmicroman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s so funny, you can’t stop laughing. Tears run down your cheeks. You’re screaming. You’re bawling. You’re laughing.</p><p>Wait… you’re not?</p><p>[An altered neutral run where Sans is the only one to die... by the human's hands.]<br/>[Inspired by the Dustjar AU by Zarla-s, The Dusttale AU, and the Disbelief Papyrus AU.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Jokes

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Please read all tags before proceeding. The following story contains murder/genocide, insanity, death and assisted suicide. It is written from the perspective of a mentally unstable character.
> 
> I do not condone any behaviour contained in this story. It is purely fiction. Please, do not repeat the actions of any characters included.

Maybe it’s another joke.

Maybe it’s a sick, disgusting prank. Maybe he’ll jump out from behind a tree and put his hands on your shoulders and wipe your tears, and you’ll be done.

But you know it’s not a joke.

His dust is all over you, now. No matter how you scrub, it won’t come off. It’s stuck to you, red with his blood. It sticks to your clothes and your face. Your cheekbones are red with hot tears. You can’t stop laughing.

But it’s not funny.

He’s all over you. It’s disgusting. You want to pull him away, but you’re scared to try. He doesn’t want to let go.

If you squint you can see where his body used to be. The clumps of dust on your collarbone were, perhaps, his ribs. The smudges beneath your eyes were his thumbs. Yes, he’s wiping away your tears. My, he always was so thoughtful.

You’re laughing again. You can’t stop.

She doesn’t understand. She whispers her apologies and rubs her hand down your back. You just keep laughing. Your tears are hot, and they burn her hands. She can’t touch you anymore. She can’t look at you anymore.

You’re disgusting.

The next to come along tries to fix you. She needs to fix your soul, she says – but you won’t let her touch you. You won’t let her touch him.  
He’s precious.

The king bows and says his condolences. You’re still laughing. His fur burns under your tears. Everything burns under your tears.  
She’s back, again. She shakes you and tells you to snap out of it. She tells you this isn’t you.

But, of course it isn’t you. It’s just another sick joke.

You can’t stop screaming.

The one you’d grown to love holds you close and whispers his love. Your tears can’t burn him. Nothing can. But he doesn’t matter. He’s nothing. He’s nobody.

You’re nothing. You’re nobody.

You wish everyone would stop worrying. It’s your favourite person, because it doesn’t worry. It knows how you feel. It stopped being so mean, now. It laughs with you. It screams with you. It knows you.

Sometimes, when it’s dark, you can’t scream anymore – no, you can’t do anything anymore. The air is so thick with his dust. You’re coughing and spluttering. His hands are around your throat. He’s wiping your tears. He loves you. He knows you. He understands.

And then the world stops, and he’s got his arms around you again, and he’s holding you close. You know he’s not really there. You’re screeching again, your laughter filling the air. The others stare at you.

You don’t care. They aren’t in on the joke.

It’s funny. He left you. He left you alone, now he says that he loves you? He’s sick. He’s disgusting. He’s…

“What a sick joke,” you whisper, and your hands are around his neck.

“What a sick joke,” you mumble, and she’s not moving anymore.

“What a sick joke,” you cry, and the wires are strangling her sobs.

“What a sick joke,” you scream, and his crown is in pieces in your hands.

“What a sick joke,” you say, and he’s finally burning in your arms.

They smile at you. You smile back.

“What a sick joke!” You laugh.

Their blood looks very nice with his. He’s smiling, too. He’s holding you close.

“I hate you.” You sob, into his shoulder. He smiles. He’s laughing, too. His tears are like tar, running over your skin. You’re melting.

“i love you too, bro,” he whispers.

Your dust stains the carpets with red.

.

.

.

The world resets.


End file.
